Gideon Drake and the Fire Within (Harry Potter Sequel/Spinoff)

Chapter Fourteen: Distant Relatives

'Drake. Gideon Drake,' Gideon repeated slowly, testing how the name sounded coming out of his own mouth. There was nothing familiar about it.

'For now, it's probably best you continue going by Maxwell. As I said, I'm sure things will work themselves out soon enough,' Jonathan Grimsby informed him.

'And my—birth—mother?' Gideon asked.

'Her name was Gwendoline,' Grimsby told him. 'I'm afraid we don't know much about her either. She was twenty-four. A Muggle. A French national who had moved to London the year you were born. She was very pretty. We have some photos and other bits and pieces on record at the Ministry. I can bring them to you if you like?'

Gideon considered this. He was intrigued, of course, but somehow it felt like a betrayal. Gwendoline Drake may have given birth to him, but he didn't know her. His mother was somewhere in the hospital fighting for her life, perhaps alone.

Grimsby seemed to understand Gideon's feelings and added, 'Well, if you ever want to see them, just let me know.'

Gideon mumbled in agreement and asked, 'So, what happens now?'

'Well,' said Grimsby, 'for now, you need to stay in the hospital for your treatment anyway. I'll continue working on your dad, and hopefully, he'll come around before you're discharged. If not, you'll stay here until I can make other arrangements.'

'Other arrangements?' Gideon questioned.

'Hopefully, it won't come to that, but we may need to consider temporary housing or even foster placement.'

'What about the rest of my family?'

'Your dad is a formidable man, Gideon, I don't need to tell you that. Your other relatives have been to the hospital but only to visit your mum. I believe Marcus has forbidden them from seeing you.'

Gideon contemplated everything he had been told. It still didn't seem real, and he wasn't entirely convinced, but why else would he be sitting here with a near stranger discussing such things? He wasn't ready to think too deeply about it all, he would do that later in private. He and Grimsby sat there in silence and consumed their drinks.

As Gideon scooped out the last remnants of his chocolate with a spoon, Grimsby finally broke the comfortable silence, 'Is there anything else you want to ask me, Gideon?'

Gideon thought this over. He decided he had quite enough to think about for the moment until he absent-mindedly scratched an itch on his arm, and a memory came to him all of a sudden.

'My arm,' he said.

'Your arm?' Grimsby replied quizzically.

'And my hand!'

'You're going to have to be a bit more specific, I'm afraid.'

'You did something to my arm yesterday,' Gideon accused, 'You stung me with something, and it was just like that time at the house when we shook hands.'

'Oh, I see,' said the man looking shifty. He appeared to wrestle with the idea before deciding to reach into his pocket and withdraw a small, black, pentagonal-shaped object. 'It's an Occurio,' he explained, expecting that would answer Gideon's question.

When he saw no recollection in the boy's face he continued nervously, 'Well, essentially it's a magic detector. A relatively new invention but very expensive. When it makes contact with an object or person, it measures magical output.'

'So, why would you use it on me?'

'As I explained yesterday, a witness claims that it was you who fended off the Dementors—'